


R + E

by Decayingfurby



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, The Kissing Bridge (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decayingfurby/pseuds/Decayingfurby
Summary: Love was soft brown eyes, even softer brown hair, and polka dotted freckles. Love was the click of an inhaler puffing medicine into lungs that didn’t need it. Love was a fanny pack, running shorts, polo shirts, knee socks. It was the sight of soft pale skin, so close, close enough that Richie could smell his apple shampoo.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	R + E

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this real quick cause I was havin some emotions, it doesn’t really make sense but enjoy anyway

1989

  
_His hands are shaking._

_It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. More often than not, Richie’s hands shake. And usually, it’s always for the same reason. His fingers itch to touch, to caress, but his common sense and internal fears hold him back. Prevents him from doing something stupid, which was a nice change of pace. He was always doing ludicrous things, it was his brand, he was the comedian and jokester of the group. He had no filter. Not necessarily a good thing, but he couldn’t help it._

_His jokes were never with ill intent. He lived to please, despite his friends not finding his jokes necessarily funny. Which was fine. All he really wanted was any kind of reaction. A groan or an eye roll told Richie he was doing his job. Fulfilling his duties. But most times he cared about certain reactions more than others. Big, brown doe eyes glaring daggers right through him. Soft pink lips pulled into a pout. Face red from anger or annoyance.  
_

_“Fuck off, Richie,” Eddie’s voice was music to his ears. A track Richie played on repeat when he was alone, splayed on his bed, staring up at the same ceiling that had witnessed his numerous feeling sessions over a tiny boy who thought fanny packs were cool. When Eddie said his name, never with malice, Richie’s stomach would flutter despite himself. Hearing his own name shouldn’t warrant a reaction like that, but it was different with Eddie.  
_

_It was always different with Eddie._

_His jokes were repetitive and the very definition of horrible, even he knew that, but Eddie’s attitude towards them was always so... cute.  Richie found himself going back for more, just to hear Eddie yell at him, call him names. Anything for Eddie’s attention. To be the only one who got Eddie’s attention. Richie was selfish._

_Suddenly the weight of the pocket knife he had stolen off the counter when his dad turned away is heavy in his hand, and Richie grips it tighter. Flips it open and closed, eyes fixated on the structure of the wooden bridge. The Kissing Bridge. His bike is leaned up next to him. There’s no signs of life for miles, at least not yet. It was just him and his emotions._

_And wasn’t that scary?_

_He flips the knife open and keeps it this time, scanning the wood for any empty patch he could get to. An empty patch that was wide and noticeable, a place someone could easily look at by accident. He finds his spot and rushes over, crouching down and grabbing onto the railing above his head while his other hand presses the tip of the blade against the aged wood._

_Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to carve something while his hands shook, but Richie wasn’t really the best at making sound decisions. He just knew there was an ache in his chest that needed alleviation, so perhaps this cheesy act of...love? Too strong a word. Whatever this was, Richie hoped it would help. His heart was full of sorrow, complicated feelings, and regret._

_( Eddie is screaming, at first for help, and then Richie’s name slips out, and Richie feels ice cold. Eddie is clutching his arm, tears forming in the back of his eyes, but refusing to cry._ ‘ It’s okay,’  _Richie wanted to tell him._ ‘ I’m here for you now, Eddie. Don’t worry.’

_Mrs. Kaspbrak is booming with anger, and Richie wonders if that loud voice and fast paced insulting ran in the family. Eddie is in the front seat of their car, grabbing his broken arm and looking out of the window to the Losers desperately. He catches Richie’s gaze, and Richie must look pathetic staring at Eddie, his heart on his sleeve. There’s an unfamiliar look in Eddie’s eyes and before Richie can make it out Mrs. K is yelling directly at him, telling him Eddie would be better off without someone like Richie as a friend as she climbed into the drivers seat, and Richie wants to collapse._

_ The sting of Bill’s fist lingers as he storms off, not really towards a specific destination, and eventually he’s at the Aladdin. Video games always helped him heal. When he got a bad grade and was scared to tell his parents. When his favorite comic book character died in an untimely way. And now, after Eddie got hurt, and he could have prevented it, could have stopped It. A boy named Connor on the  _ Street Fighters  _ machine. He decided Connor was his least favorite name. ) _

_He finishes the curve of a capital ‘R’ and quickly carves a small plus sign next to it. His breathing falters as he positions his hand for the next letter, and suddenly it’s like the whole town of Derry is watching him. ‘ Good’,  he thinks.  ‘Let them watch.’  He begins to carve a capital ‘E’, focusing on making this one much neater. More precise. And he’s carving deep, because he wants it to be permanent, and he wants whoever’ll care long enough to look know that he’s hopelessly in love._

**_love // noun_ **

_• an intense feeling of deep affection, platonically or romantically _

_“I love the way he laughs.”_

_“Despite everything, I’m still in love with you.”_

_“I want you to love me back.”_

_Richie has a dictionary definition taped to the inside of his closet. No one ever goes in there. It was the perfect hiding spot. He had ripped it out of the library dictionary after learning about the word on television. After discovering emotions he thought he was too young to understand._

_ To some people ‘love’ was nothing more than a cheap, four letter marketing scheme. But to Richie it was much more than that. Love was unspoken emotions. Words catching in his throat every time he thought he was ready to confess, but chickened out at the last second, joking about mom sex. It was complicated feelings. The knot in his stomach every time Eddie laughed, or smiled, or fussed over their health, or did fucking  _ anything _. _

_Love was soft brown eyes, even softer brown hair, and polka dotted freckles. Love was the click of an inhaler puffing medicine into lungs that didn’t need it. Love was a fanny pack, running shorts, polo shirts, knee socks. It was the sight of soft pale skin, so close, close enough that Richie could smell his apple shampoo. Not enough room in the hammock, crowded against each other, legs colliding and Eddie sliding in between Richie oh so naturally. Like he belonged there._

_And maybe he did._

_Richie finishes the ‘E’ and brushes one finger over his work, removing any stray wood pieces to clean the carving. The permanent carving. It was there now, going nowhere unless the bridge was torn apart, which would never happen. His declaration of love was on display for the whole world to see, and while it made Richie giddy with uncertain excitement, it also made him sorrowful. Perhaps there was an inkling of hope that his entire world would see his love confession. But doubt plagued his mind._

_He stands up, pocketing the knife and brushing the dirt from his knees, admiring his work. Richie can only manage a small smile, and it’s not a happy one. He feels tears coming and blinks them back, turning away from the carving because ‘_ it was done, there was nothing else to be said about it _’ . He grabs his bike and clambers on, deciding the only place he wanted to be right now was home._

2016

It faded over time. Of course it had, that’s what something as scary as time did. Made things older, navigated and dictated peoples lives. It caused a 27 year old carving to decay from the wood it was printed on, but the universe was sometimes sympathetic, as it was still there. And still legible. But that ‘E’ could use some work. 

“This is peak sappiness, y’know that?” Eddie’s voice is soft from behind Richie, who smiles as he works on deepening their initials. “I can’t believe you did this, what, when we were thirteen? That’s so indescribably romantic I almost can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Eds,” Richie retorts.  _Please believe it, and make my thirteen year old self overjoyed. He deserves it._ “I had so much emotions in my tiny prepubescent body I didn’t know how to deal with, this seemed like the best idea. And I was right. I basically told all of Derry to rot in hell.”

Eddie laughs knowingly. It’s a sound Richie will never get tired of. “You were braver than me.”

Richie finishes his touch ups and smiles before standing up, turning to face Eddie, who was smiling up at him. There was a fresh bandage on his cheek, and a walker in his right hand to help steady himself as he stood, waiting for Richie to stop being a fucking sap. Which would never happen. Not with Eddie.

”You’re braver than you think.”

Love is the echo of a freshly banged gong, silencing the gathered group of adults and meeting eyes with a man who opens a floodgate of memories. Love is the sickness he felt at the sight of a wedding ring. It was gentle hands caressing his face, smiling down at him, declaring their victory. Richie saw death in the corner of his eye and pulled love away and to safety. Only suffering from torn ligaments in his side.

Love was initials, carved onto a bridge in a town that hated him, always a token for his feelings. Requited feelings. Emotions he had kept in secret since youth, now out and open and everything felt as it should be. 


End file.
